


Down the Rabbit Hole

by ScaryScarecrows



Series: The Autumn Effect [5]
Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: Alice in Wonderland, F/M, It might be a fever dream, absolute nonsense, it's less crossover and more mishmash, nobody stopped me and it got out of control, or maybe it happened, or poor Jonathan's off his rocker, really it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-28 06:51:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6319015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScaryScarecrows/pseuds/ScaryScarecrows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonathan Crane isn't sure if this is a fever dream or not. He doesn't care, either: he just wants it to stop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place during 'College Days'-it was written before things got out of hand, and I was like, 'it's more than two parts, it can have its own document'. It may or may not clash with my canon, anyway-depends on your interpretation!

Ahh. Tea, a nice fat book, and her fuzzy blanket. Kitty Richardson really can't ask for much more than this.

Her peace is shattered by a nasty hacking from behind her. Lovely. Just lovely.

"Kitty, I believe you got me sick."

How dare he blame her! If he would go to bed before two AM, his immune system might be better equipped.

She closes her book and sets down her mug. She'll come back to them later.

"You look like death, love."

Jonathan Crane coughs again and wraps his arms around himself. Kitty sighs and gets up to steer him towards a hot shower. Thank god it's winter break.

"Bend down a bit, you're too tall."

He does as she says and she puts her hand on his forehead. Ouch. She'll have to drug him, then-she can't trust him not to get a head start on papers or something.

"Well, Nurse?"

"Shower. March."

"Yes, ma'm."

She waits until she hears the water go on before digging through the medicine cabinet for the NyQuil. Oh, what fun this is going to be.

She's enjoying her book and tea again when he stumbles out of the shower, his hair still wet. He still looks like death.

"Scarecrow's gone."

He _sounds_ like death, too. Fantastic.

"You have a fever, that's all. Come on, into bed with you."

"But…"

"No buts. Come on."

He lets her tug him into their room and tuck him in without complaint.

"Kitty?"

"Maybe no talking."

"Your parents are coming over…"

"At six. It's only two. They're not staying the night, anyway, they're just coming for dinner and then going to the hotel."

"They're still coming over."

"Yes. And they'll forgive you for being in quarantine." She drops a kiss on his head and he squirms out of reach.

"You'll get sick."

"I _was_ sick." she reminds him. "Go to sleep."

"Not tired."

Men. They complain about being sick, and then insist that everything's fine. Sometimes she wonders if cavewomen just knocked them out until the cold was over. Sometimes it's tempting.

"Go. To. Sleep."

He huffs at her and promptly starts to cough. She ruffles his hair-he hates it, but she can't help herself, she really can't-and flicks off the light.

"Kitty?"

She won't cause permanent damage if she knocks him out with a book, will she?

"Yes?"

"Would you make me a cup of tea?"

"Lemon or mint?"

"Lemon."

"Fine."

"Would you make me a sandwich while you're in there?"

Is he serious? He sounds serious, but that's normal. She turns around to check and finds him giving her a sleepy smirk.

"Arsenic or cyanide?"

That should wipe that smirk off his face.

He's half-asleep when she comes back and she takes the opportunity to gather his papers into a stack and lock them in her side of the dresser.

"Thanks, Kitty."

"Mm-hm. Night."

When she looks in on him half an hour later, he's dead asleep.


	2. Chapter Two

Jonathan doesn't know if he's asleep or if he's hallucinating, but he doesn't like it. He's never liked nonsense dreams, and this is no exception.

A white rabbit wearing a waistcoat and holding a pocket watch is standing in the doorway. He blinks a few times to be absolutely _sure_ that's what he's seeing.

Yes. He is indeed looking at a white rabbit wearing a waistcoat and holding a pocket watch. He hates being sick. Can't he have normal dreams? Or at least have the rabbit somewhere that makes sense?

The door opens and the rabbit is gone. Good. He wasn't enjoying it at all.

"Hey, love."

"Hello."

"How are you feeling?"

He runs over his mental checklist-an old habit from living with Granny. Achy? Yes. Fever? Low one-maybe ninety-nine point four. Headache? Feels like it. Sore throat and runny nose? Nails in throat and clogged nose.

"Horrendous."

"You sound it." She holds up the thermometer. "Three minutes, don't talk."

He knows how to use a thermometer, thank you.

Wait, wait…ninety-nine point three. He was close. Not bad.

"Well, it could be worse."

"Mm."

"Think you can eat anything?" He shakes his head. "Okay. Go back to sleep."

He watches her leave and settles down under the blankets. Of all the times to get sick…ugh. Whatever he did to upset Karma, it must have been really bad. Hopefully her parents won't think this is a ploy to get out of seeing them…

He sneezes and spits out a gob of off-white…ick. What fun this is. He almost wishes Scarecrow was here. Almost.

There's a water bottle by the bed. He doesn't recall how long it's been there, but it doesn't look dusty or anything. It will do.

It goes down the wrong pipe and forces him out of bed to spit up more ick. On his way back, he spots Kitty's fuzzy blanket. She hasn't come back for it yet. If he grabs it now and looks pathetic enough, she might let him keep it. On the other hand, she might leave him to fend for himself for the duration of this cold.

Decisions, decisions.

* * *

Her parents will be here in half an hour. The flat is clean-well, mostly, a few stains wouldn't come out of the sofa-the _slightly_ illegal wine coolers are hidden at the back of the fridge, and all signs that dinner came from the freezer have been destroyed.

Not bad.

She slips in to check on Jonathan and frowns. Where in the world did he get her fuzzy blanket? God, she needs to just get him his own.

 _Fine_. He can keep it for now, but only because she doesn't want to deal with any complaints.

She glances at the clock-five forty-and sighs. Bored, bored…oh, god, it smells like something's on fire.

A few minutes of flailing and cursing later, dinner is saved. Well. _That'll_ give it that home-cooked taste.

She's wondering if her parents will notice the stains on the sofa when Jonathan stumbles out, still wrapped in her fuzzy blanket.

"You look terrible."

He coughs and she _swears_ that his hair wilts along with the rest of him.

"I feel terrible."

"I can tell. Go back in there, you're not getting my parents sick."

"I won't be out for very long."

"Good."

He coughs again and pulls the blanket tighter around his shoulders. She wonders if he remembers that he's wearing it.

"The thermometer's broken."

"Mm?"

"Keeps saying I have a…" Sneeze. "a temperature of ninety-seven."

Between her standing on tip-toe and him slouching and looking fairly pathetic, she manages to press her lips to his forehead. That is not ninety-seven.

"Nope. Back to bed, please, you look like death."

He might actually be about to obey when there's a knock on the door. Her parents have arrived.

"Coming!"

And then there's the typical fussing and hugs and not-so-subtle pregnancy questions. Ah, parents. She loves hers dearly-they could be Jonathan's crazy grandmother, after all-but sometimes she wonders w _hy_.

At some point Jonathan is yanked into the flurry of hugs and cheek-pinching as well. He's on his own for that, unless he starts turning blue or something.

Finally, finally her parents let go. She's pretty sure she didn't open the door looking this ruffled.

"Hi."

And then the smoke alarm goes off.


	3. Chapter Three

Kitty has to give it to her father. He definitely spotted the _slightly_ illegal wine coolers and said nothing, and now he's trying very hard to ignore the fact that Jonathan is curled up on her lap.

Her mother doesn't seem to notice. Or at least, she doesn't care. Probably the latter. Fathers are _supposed_ to be overprotective. Mothers are not.

She really does wish that Jonathan would go to bed already. Maybe she's paranoid, but he feels warmer than he did before. And he sounds worse, but that could be from being involved in the conversation.

"We'll let you two get some sleep." Mum says. "Call us tomorrow-you have the hotel number?"

"Yes, Mum."

"Good. See you tomorrow, sweetie. Feel better, Jonathan."

He sits up enough to let her walk them out, but the second she comes back he drops down again.

"Don't get comfy, love. You're going back to bed where you belong."

He mumbles something that might be a protest, but in the end he does get up and wander into the bedroom. Good boy. She hovers for a minute to make sure he takes his glasses off this time.

"I'll be in in a few minutes, love."

"Mm-hm."

"Thanks for keeping your distance from my parents."

"Mm-hm."

She pauses.

"Is the NyQuil kicking in yet?"

"Mm-hm…what NyQuil?"

She laughs and shakes her head.

"Just making sure you were listening. Night, Jonathan."

* * *

Jonathan doesn't want to get out of bed, but the cat won't leave him alone.

It sounds remarkably like Scarecrow, really, which is the only reason he hasn't grabbed its tail and flung it outside. Well, that and the fact that it's grinning at him.

Maybe Kitty really did drug him.

"Jonny. Wake up, Jonny. Come on, wake up, I'm bored."

God, she did drug him. They'll be having a discussion about this when he's back to normal.

"Go away." Can't he have a dream about flying or something? "I'm sick, I don't want to talk."

He wishes Kitty would wake him up, even if it's accidentally.

"Aw, come on, you're no fun."

"Shut up, Scarecrow."

He'll never make the mistake of missing Scarecrow again.

"Scarecrow?" The cat sounds honestly confused. "I'm not Scarecrow."

What a strange dream this is. He's sure there's some sort of psychological explanation for this, but he doesn't want to think about that right now.

"Sorry." he murmurs. "Just go away, I'm tired."

If he concentrates hard enough, he can almost feel a hand-Kitty's, maybe?-brushing his hair. Maybe that'll wake him, if he stays still and focuses on that.

"Jonny." The cat's tail caresses his ear and the faint hand is gone. Damn.

"What."

"Might want to look around, Jonny-boy."

He rolls over, intending to smack the little monster into oblivion, and finds himself staring at a forest.

A forest has cropped up in their bedroom. What on…

"What?"

"Not bad, is it?"

The cat flicks his ear with its tail and he swats at it.

"What is this?"

"Wonderland, Jonny. And you're stuck in it for a good long while."

He blinks up at the multicolored trees and the grinning cat, wishing he could at least dream about Jack the Ripper or something. Anything but this.

He read _Alice in Wonderland_ as a six year-old and hated it. He doesn't like it any better now. He likes things to make sense, thank you very much.

"God, why?"

"Problem?"

"You. You are my problem. And this…" He gestures at the trees. "Why can't my dreams just be normal?"

"Dream?" The cat cocks its head and he wonders if that grin is permanent. "What do you mean, Jonny?"

"I'm sick and having a fever dream. And I _don't like it_. So go away, and take your trees with you."

"A dream, he says!" The cat cackles. "That's cute, Jonny-boy. Downright adorable. Completely wrong, of course, but cute."

"Wrong?"

Wait. Why is he arguing with his imagination? If this isn't a dream, he's delirious and should go to the hospital or something. Since he's not being pulled into an ambulance or anything, this is a dream.

"This is no dream, Jonny-boy. If it was, I couldn't do this."

And it scratches him. Not only that, but it _hurts_.

"Hey!"

"Believe me now?"

"That hurt!"

"Well, _duh_." The cat flicks his ear with its tail again. "So come, entertain me. Get up."

No. He's staying right here, and that's final.

He glares at the cat and pulls his blankets up to his neck. After a minute, he pulls them over his head and squeezes his eyes shut.

"Jonny, I'm bored."

_Please shut up, please shut up._

"Go away."

"Jonny. Jonny. Jon. Hey. You."

He shoves the blankets down and sits up, preparing to fix the cat with the same glare Granny used to use when he was in _big_ trouble.

The cat is gone…no. The cat's body is gone, but that toothy grin is still there, hovering above his knees.

"What on…"

The mouth moves.

"Might want to run, Jonny. Before she knows you're here."

"She?"

"The Queen."


	4. Chapter Four

Kitty towels her hair off and reaches for her nighttime chapstick. Dinner wasn't too terrible, all things considered. Now she can go to bed.

"Bad cat…"

What on…oh, dear god. She's never heard him talk in his sleep before-not that she remembers, anyway. This could be interesting.

"Jonathan?" There. She tried to wake him up. Good enough. "Jonathan, love, are you awake?"

He coughs and mumbles something about trees. Boring.

"Night, love." She pulls the blankets back over him. "Sweet dreams."

* * *

 

Jonathan may not have liked the book, but he does remember it. If the Queen is who he thinks it is, she cuts off heads and yells a lot. Dream or not, he doesn't want to get his head cut off.

He struggles out of bed and puts his glasses on, wondering why he can't dream of floating white heads or something. Why Wonderland? He's inclined to blame the little man down the hall, the short one from England. The one time they accepted his invitation for tea, he hummed the Unbirthday Song _the entire time_.

Jonathan may have Scarecrow, but at least he doesn't do _that_.

He shuffles towards what should be the kitchen, wishing his chest didn't feel quite so tight.

The kitchen is gone. In its place is a patch of mushrooms. And sitting on one of the larger mushrooms is a caterpillar. A caterpillar with a hookah.

"Um…"

The caterpillar turns its groggy eyes towards him and drawls out, "Who _are_ you?"

That was Kitty's father's voice.

Why the hell is Kitty's father invading his dreams? And why isn't he chasing him with a shotgun or something?

"J-Jonathan Crane." He puts a few feet between them, just in case. "Um…"

"Jonathan Crane?" The caterpillar takes a drag from its hookah. "I don't know any Jonathan Crane."

That's good. That means he'll be nice and safe…at least from the caterpillar.

He gives himself a mental shake. This is a dream. A weird dream, yes, unlike any dream he's ever had before, but a dream all the same. Besides, it's a caterpillar. How much damage can a caterpillar do?

Then again, it is-apparently-Kitty's father. It can probably do an awful lot of damage if it tries.

"Okay."

"Look out for the Queen, Jonathan Crane." it says languidly. "She won't like you at all, I don't think."

"This is a dream." he says, more to himself than to the caterpillar. "Just a fever dream."

"Oh, I don't think you believe that." Eavesdropper. "You know better than that, Jonathan Crane."

What is with this thing's insistence of using his full name? Ah, well, better than 'Jonny-boy'. Marginally.

"No, I don't. It's a fever dream, and that's final."

He turns to leave and the caterpillar calls him back. What does it want with him? What can it possibly want with him?

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son."

What on…that doesn't even deserve a response.

He's lost. Lost and bored. None of his other dreams have ever been like this.

Strange creatures-running mushrooms, eggplants with legs-roam the woods. He tripped over something with sharp teeth and nearly lost a leg earlier.

For a dream, he feels terrible. His body temperature refuses to steady itself and he's alternating between hot flashes and bone-chattering chills. His throat still feels like he swallowed a bag of nails. _And_ his nose seems to think it's Granny's kitchen faucet.

He finally sinks to the ground, a rough tree against his back. He can't breathe. Even if it means being fussed over or squeezed or confined to bed with nothing to do, he would like to wake up now. Please.

"Wake up, Jonathan." he says firmly. "Dream's over."

The trees don't melt. He's still asleep.

He lets his head fall back and closes his eyes. Maybe he'll just sit here and wait to wake up on his own…

The ground shudders. What on…nothing. That was nothing.

It shudders again and a bloodcurdling shriek reaches his ears.

Then he sees it.


	5. Chapter Five

Kitty doesn't like to admit it, but she's starting to panic. Just a little.

Jonathan woke her up sometime around one, muttering something about a caterpillar and a queen. That had been interesting enough, but now he won't wake up no matter how hard she shakes him.

"Jonathan. Wake up, please wake up."

He really is too warm for her liking. She's pretty sure he wasn't this warm before. Or this still.

"Jonathan?"

He groans and pulls his head away from her hand, but that's the most she can get out of him. She's never known him to sleep like this. Usually all it takes to wake him is the flick of the light switch.

"Come on, wake up. Please?"

He doesn't do anything this time, even though she's practically sitting on him and shaking him. This can't be good.

Fine. If she can't get him to wake up in another half-hour, she's calling her mother.

* * *

Jonathan stares at the serpentine monster in front of him. Or, more accurately, at its head. It has a big mouth with sharp teeth and bulbous eyes. Its neck is longer than he would like, and the few glances he'd taken at the rest of it told him that it has claws.

He's dead.

It takes a step forward, the ground shuddering, and he sees the rest of its green body. It has a long, spiked tail and powerful hind legs. Its front legs look more like arms. His initial thought is that it looks like some sort of dinosaur-dragon hybrid.

It roars at him and he cringes back from it. Surely it can smell him. Or even see him, what with those big eyes.

_Beware the Jabberwock, my son!_

Indeed. Perhaps he should have listened to the caterpillar.

He gets to his feet as slowly as he dares, hoping that it's not hungry or something. It's not looking at him yet. Perhaps it's a herbivore.

Yeah, right. That's why it has such _lovely_ sharp teeth.

He's going to be chewed up into little tiny pieces, he knows it. Or swallowed whole and slowly digested alive.

He backs up, desperate to blink but not dumb enough to do so.

**_Cra-ack!_ **

Shit.

The head swings up and the mouth opens. He can see saliva dripping onto the dirt below. It knows.

He turns to run and finds teeth closing around his middle. He is no longer on the ground. Wake up, wake up, wake up!

This does not feel like a dream. There's too much drool for this to be a dream. He takes it back, it's real!

Teeth dig into his skin and he squeezes his eyes shut.

_Scarecrow, where are you!_

There's a wild shrieking and he's dropped. Falling hurts but it doesn't feel like anything's broken. What on…that cat. The cat has come to his rescue.

"Run, you stupid kid!"

He doesn't need to be told twice.

* * *

"W-wake up…"

"That's what I keep asking, Jonathan. So do it." Kitty shakes him. "Please."

He coughs but doesn't do anything else. That's it, she's calling her mother.

"If you're trying to scare me, you've done it. I am not amused."

He doesn't stir. She fumbles for the phone book and flips through for the number.

_Please answer, please answer…_

"H-hello?"

"Mum?"

"Kitty?" It's amazing how fast her mother can wake up if she sounds panicked enough. "Kitty, what's going on, are you all right?"

"It's not me, it's Jonathan…he won't wake up, please…"

"Calm down. What's going on?"

"He won't wake up." How hard is that to understand? "I've tried everything."

"Call the hospital."

"That's the thing, he's asleep. He just won't wake up."

"Sound sleeper?" Mum sounds like she's falling back asleep.

"No! He's not like this, it doesn't take anything to wake him up!"

"I'll be there in forty minutes."

"Thanks, Mum."

The line goes dead. Kitty drops onto the bed and sighs. She hates this. He was fine last night, why isn't he fine now? And why does he have to look so…so dead?

She hesitates before brushing his hair out of his face. The act reminds her of fixing a corpse for a viewing and she doesn't like it.

_Stop it. He's not dead, not even close._

God, she hopes her mother gets here soon.


	6. Chapter Six

He can't breathe. He's scared out of his mind-both exhilarating and horrible at the same time-and he's no longer sure this is a dream.

He sinks to the ground, gasping and coughing. This is too vivid to be a dream, and he's had some convincing ones.

"Sorry, Jonny. I got there as soon as I could."

"Thanks." The cat curls up in his lap. "Where am I?"

"Wonderland."

Obviously.

"I know that, but…what is it? Am I dead?" It figures his immune system would let him be killed by the common cold.

"Not yet."

Yet? What's that supposed to mean?

"Yet?"

"Come on, Jonny, we need to find Alice. Well, you do. I'm just bored and watching you stumble around is funny."

Great. That's just great. His only friend in this crazy world is little better than his peers.

"Alice?"

"You'll know her when you see her. Go get 'em, Tiger."

It leaves him. At least it takes the grin with it this time.

The woods are cold and dark and he doesn't know where he's going. He just wants to make himself a cup of tea and read his book, not wander around in here.

"Alice?"

He suspects that 'Alice' will be dressed in blue. He hopes so, anyway. Where the hell is she?

"Alice!"

The white rabbit-the one that started this whole mess-darts by him, fussing with its now-broken pocket watch. He's tempted to grab it and wring its neck. It won't be late anymore if he does that.

"Alice!" Where is this kid? She is a kid, right? He's pretty sure she was nine or something in the book.

Great. He's been promoted to babysitter. He doesn't even _like_ kids. If she puts one toe out of line, just one, he's leaving her behind. If she annoys him enough, he'll tie her up and leave her to be eaten by that monster back there.

"Alice!"

That's it. He's done looking. If he trips over her, fine, if not, too bad.

Not five seconds later a _very_ familiar voice reaches his ears.

"Excuse me, sir, but have you seen a white rabbit?"

He turns, his heart in his throat, and tries to keep his jaw from dropping.

Kitty is standing there, in a blue dress and a blonde wig and striped stockings.

"Kitty."

"You've mistaken me for someone else." she says. "My name is Alice. And you are?"

_You know me, you've used me as a pillow for two years!_

"J-Jonathan Crane."

"Pleasure to meet you, Jonathan Crane." She shakes his hand. If she's playing a trick on him, it's not funny. "So? Have you seen a white rabbit?"

That's _it_. He wants very much to go home, not play Jonathan-in-Wonderland.

"Kitty, please…"

"My name isn't Kitty." She sounds more than a little annoyed. "My name is Alice. Have you seen the rabbit or haven't you?"

She's serious. She doesn't know him. She honestly does not know him.

_I don't like this, please let's go home now._

"Yes." he says softly. "That way. D-do you…" _Just spit it out!_ "Do you want help finding him?"

"Sure. Come along."

He follows her without another word, feeling more lost than ever.

God, he just wants to go home.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Easter, those who celebrate. I have no virtual jellybeans for you, so you get the last few chapters of this instead.

"His fever's not abnormally high…"

"Yeah."

"He doesn't seem to be in danger of choking…"

"No."

"I think we'll have to wait him out."

"Wait him out-! Mum, what's wrong with him?"

"Nothing."

"What?"

"From a technical standpoint, nothing's wrong. I don't know what's going on. If you want to take him to the hospital, we can, but there isn't anything for them to find."

Kitty sighs and rubs her eyes. She knows that _technically_ nothing's wrong. Plenty of people sleep through earthquakes, for crying out loud! But Jonathan's not a heavy sleeper. He never has been, at least not since she's known him.

"No, I…he doesn't like hospitals. He always gets pneumonia when he goes in one."

"I don't know what to do, then."

Kitty shrugs.

"I guess you're right."

"I'm sorry, Kitty."

"Will you stay here?"

"Sure, sweetie."

Good.

* * *

It's very hard to keep from saying Kitty's name. All that gets him is a dirty look, though. It's not worth it.

"Um…rabbit?"

"Yes. I followed him down here. What are _you_ doing down here, Jonathan Crane?"

"I…" He coughs. "The same."

He coughs again.

_Please remember me, Kitty, I just want to go home._

"Are you ill?"

"A bit." _You know that, earlier you were telling me to go to bed._ "It's nothing serious."

"Good. This way, I think."

Well, she's still as bossy as ever. That's something.

"Fine."

"You look terrible."

_I'm sure I do, so let's go home, please._

"Yes."

"Are you sure you can continue?"

It's as close to concern as he's going to get, probably. He'll take it.

"Yes."

She gives him an odd look but lets the topic drop. He almost wishes she'd fuss over him, even though he doesn't particularly like it. He might even appreciate a hug-one of the really tight ones that makes it hard to breathe. He gets neither.

"There!" She's off like a shot, calling to that blasted rabbit. He follows her, wishing she'd slow down. "Mr. Rabbit, wait!"

Ohh, when he gets his hands on that thing…

"Alice!"

"Come on, Jonathan Crane!"

_Just Jonathan, please._

* * *

"K-Kitty, please…"

"It's all right, love, I'm right here."

He's having another nightmare, by the looks of it-he's twitching and everything. It's pointless to shake him and she doesn't bother.

"I'm right here." She rubs his head. "Jonathan, love, you're all right. It's just a bad dream."

He quiets down soon enough. She'll have to ask him about this later.

_If there is a later._

She reaches back for her mug. Her tea went cold a while ago, but she doesn't want to get a fresh cup.

What time is it…two-thirty. God, it's too early to be up. She's never been up this early, not even back in high school-he was always in her room by ten or so.

"Please…"

"Shh, shh. You're all right."

He coughs and rolls over, pulling her blanket around his shoulders. She really needs to get him his own or get a new one for herself.

"You're all right, love." she says again. "I promise you're all right."

Now, if only she'd believe it herself.


	8. Chapter Eight

"Where are we going?"

"To see the Queen."

Queen? No, no, he doesn't want to see the Queen. The Queen chops off heads.

"Um…"

"She'll tell us the way out. That's what the March Hare said."

March Hare? As in, crazy rabbit with a hammer? Oh, yes, he's going to believe _him_.

"But…"

"I want to go home. So are you coming or not?"

She's never used that tone of voice on him before. He doesn't like it.

"Fine."

"Good."

She flounces-flounces!-forward and he buries his hands in his pockets. Maybe the Queen isn't that bad. Maybe she's just a strict ruler, not a crazy lady.

Yeah, right.

"Ki-Alice?"

"Yes?"

He doesn't know what to say. What is he supposed to say?

"Forgot. Never mind."

"You're a strange one, Jonathan Crane."

He wishes the cat would come back. He may hate nicknames, but it's better than everyone using his full name all the time.

"Did you meet the cat yet?"

"I did." she sniffs. "Miserable trickster."

"Um…"

"He got me lost!"

"Oh."

"Why?"

"Curious."

"Humph."

They walk in silence for a while. He's wondering what he should do now when a noise reaches his ears. Horns. They've found the Queen's court.

He lost Alice at the beginning of the hedge maze. He doesn't really want to look for her. She may look and sound like Kitty, but she isn't Kitty. She's on her own. Idiot kid.

Then he sees the soldiers.

Well, the cards.

Card-soldiers?

He has no idea what these are!

They look like cards-maybe they _are_ cards. Whatever they are, they have weapons and he doesn't want to go near them. The cat scratch on his arm still hurts. Being stabbed will probably hurt more.

"…her Majesty, her Royal Highness…the Queen of Hearts!"

The Queen? What Queen…oh, dear god.

She's a tall, thin woman in a red and black dress with a high collar. The spiky crown on her head only adds to her height. He ducks down behind a potted plant and waits for her to turn around. When she does, he feels the ground sway and his breath catches in his throat.

That's Granny.

A tad bit younger and a little more nonsensical-looking, this is true, but that is most assuredly Granny Keeney. She's clawed her way out of Hell, just as he knew she would. Probably gave the Devil a good tongue-lashing in the process.

He wraps his arms around himself and looks around. Nobody's seen him yet, maybe he can get out of here.

Alice! There she is, curtsying and everything. She and Granny-he'll never be able to think of her as the Queen-seem to be having a conversation. She's on her own. He's not antagonizing the old hag for her sake.

All right, if he just takes a few steps back…

"Jonny!"

No.

"Shh." he whispers. "I'm trying to get out of here."

"Without meeting the Queen, Jon? Poor manners."

"No, please…"

The cat's mischievous grin disappears and reappears over Granny's crown.

"May I present Master Jonathan Crane!"

Everyone turns to look at him, Granny included. For one fleeting moment he hopes she won't recognize him-no one else has-but there's no missing the flash of hatred in her eyes.

"OFF WITH HIS HEAD!"

There's nothing he can do but run.

He's lucky enough to make it through the hedge maze and back into the woods, but they're not far behind him. The best he can hope for is to lose them in the dark or hope they get tired of looking for him. Damn that grinning cat!

There's a familiar cawing from above his head and he looks up. Oh, god, he really did die and go to Hell, just like she always told him he would.

A murder

_They couldn't have found a better name?_

of crows perches on a tree, glaring down at him. He puts his hands up and steps back. If he goes near them they'll tear him apart, but if he goes back he'll be executed.

_And thus ends the short, miserable life of Jonathan Crane._

"OFF WITH HIS HEAD!"

He turns in time to get a slap to the face and a forcible shove to the chest. He drops, wheezing and more scared than he's ever been in his life. His eyes catch the glimmer of the ax as it rises up, but he squeezes them shut as it comes sweeping down.


	9. Chapter Nine

Kitty's dozing when Jonathan begins to cough. She sits up, flailing and dropping her book on the floor.

_Thank god he's not awake to see that!_

She settles back against the pillows and reaches down for her book. She's trying to find her place when he groans and mumbles, "Kitty?"

She puts her book down _very_ slowly and turns to look at him. His eyes are open.

"Jonathan." Yeesh, her voice sounds like dry leaves. "You're awake."

He blinks a few times and sits up, looking lost and confused. He isn't suffering amnesia or something, is he?

"Kitty." he says again. "Th-that's you, isn't it?"

That doesn't sound like it bodes well.

"Yes."

He scares her when he flings his arms around her and _squeezes_ , murmuring something about Alice and a queen and a cat. What on…

"All right, you're all right." She's only seen him like this once before, after the crows were through with him. She didn't like it then and she doesn't like it now. "Jonathan, love…"

"You didn't know me." he whispers. "You didn't know me."

"You were dreaming." She rubs his back. "You had a bad dream, that's all."

"You didn't know me." he insists. "You didn't know me and Granny was going to kill me and I…"

"Shh, shh." Hopefully he won't remember this later. "You're all right."

He takes a shuddery breath and loosens his grip a bit. That's good. She'll explain everything later, when he's a little more lucid and a little less terrified.

"That wasn't a dream."

"Dream or not, you're just fine. Not even a scratch."

He untangles himself from her and reaches for his glasses.

"It didn't feel like a dream."

"They never do, love. How are you feeling?"

"Tired." he admits. "What time is it?"

"Three forty-five."

He takes his glasses off again and drops back, watching her with wary eyes.

"You promise that you know who I am? You're not humoring me?"

"Promise." He doesn't look convinced. "Your name is Jonathan Crane, you were brought up by your crazy grandmother who…erm…died."

"How."

Her mother is less than twenty feet away!

"Birds got her." she whispers. "And you have an alternate personality called Scarecrow." She folds her hands. "Convinced yet?"

The wariness goes out of his eyes and he nods.

"Sorry."

"Some dream, huh?"

"Mm-hm." He yawns and nestles down under the blankets again. "Fuzzy blanket."

What…oh.

"Yeah, you got cold."

"Thanks, Kitty."

"Go back to sleep, love."

He doesn't do anything until she flips off the light and curls up next to him. Then he squeezes her again. She feels a raw scab on his arm and fumbles for the light.

"What's that?"

"What?"

"Looks like a cat scratch."

"It's nothing. Must've done something earlier."

Yeah, maybe.

She turns off the light again and makes herself comfortable.

"Night, love."

"Night."

THE END


End file.
